


How Fucked Is the T?

by Chash



Series: Bellarke AU Week [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven doesn't think the bus is a good mode of transportation, but Clarke disagrees. Mostly out of stubbornness, but also because Bellamy is on the bus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Fucked Is the T?

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing against the 70 bus; I haven't even taken it. Steve picked the 70. I just hate all buses.

It starts with the 70 bus.

Clarke got her MLIS degree in DC, near her mother, but within two days of graduating she's shoved all her shit into a U-Haul and driven up to Massachusetts to live with her college roommate in a shitty Cambridge apartment with no air-conditioning. But Raven assures her there are only like seven days a year where they'd really _need_ AC, and she gets to live with one of her best friends. She's even got a job lined up.

"It's perfect," says Clarke. "It's like five minutes to the bus stop, and then a twenty-minute ride, and I get off practically at work. And I can read on the bus. It's going to be so great."

"Have you ever actually taken a bus before?" Raven asks, sounding dubious. They've had similar conversations about all kinds of things; they both grew up city girls, but Raven's family was poor, and Clarke's was rich. Clarke didn't even get on the DC metro until she was seventeen, because her mother was worried about her safety. 

"Yes," she says, petulant. "I took the bus to get here. From the airport."

"That was technically the Silver Line," says Raven.

"It went on the road, it was a bus."

"Anyway, you've never commuted on a bus. Commuting on a bus is different. You're going to need to make a shrine to the gods of the MBTA and make animal sacrifices to get a half-an-hour commute every day. I'm just saying."

"It's a _bus_ , Raven."

"Spoken like someone who has never visited [How Fucked is the T](http://howfuckedisthet.com/)," she says, patting Clarke on the shoulder. "Just, leave early, that's all I'm saying."

She does, because Raven is generally pretty on top of these things, and it goes _fine_ for the entire first week. When Clarke points this out, Raven just says something about the MBTA lulling her into a false sense of security, like the Boston public transportation system is a vicious wild animal that is just biding its time, waiting to maul Clarke and leave her body by the side of the road. Which is just--definitely not true.

She's almost positive.

*

A month in, she misses the bus home, or the bus home doesn't exist, or _something_.

"Fuck," she mutters, and texts Raven. They were supposed to do a trivia thing, of course. Most days, it wouldn't matter. Raven just responds with _told you so_ , which seems unfair. One missed bus in a month hardly seems like evidence that buses are not an acceptable form of transportation.

"It just disappeared," says the guy next to her. She's noticed him on the bus before--a few inches taller than she is, curly black hair, always wearing a button-down with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. He wears glasses about half the time, and he has freckles, which is the main reason she started noticing him. She likes freckles. "The 70, right?"

"Yeah," she says. "Clarke," she offers, mostly because it seems polite. Besides, she hasn't really met a lot of people since she moved, outside of work and Raven's weird MIT friends. And he did start the conversation.

"Bellamy," he says, and they shake hands. "I got off work early, and I haven't seen any buses, so I assume it went out of service or something. We're probably going to be here a while."

Usually, Clarke would get out her phone and work on her very important Two Dots standings or something, but it's rude with Bellamy right here and already talking to her. 

With freckles.

"So, you live in Central?" she asks.

"Kind of between Central and Harvard," he says. "My little sister is at Harvard," he adds, with an expression that says he is aware he's bragging but can't help it.

"That's awesome," says Clarke. "My roommate is at MIT. Do you ever get intimidated, being surrounded by overachievers?"

He laughs. "Who says I'm not an overachiever?"

"That makes it worse though, right? I was totally that girl in high school--top of my class, all the right extra-curriculars, great college--and then I met my roommate freshman year and she's like, yeah, I put computers together for fun, I am going to be a rocket scientist, and I nearly gave up and started drinking, but she's better than I am at drinking too."

He's laughing again, looking a little charmed. Clarke is definitely the best at cute self-deprecation. "So, what did you do instead?" he asks.

"Became a librarian."

"Oh, that makes sense," he says, nodding. "You're over at the public library?"

"Yeah. Children's and young adult lit."

"Wait, really? That's awesome. I'm the program director at the Boys and Girls Club. I would love to set some stuff up with you guys."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure we could work that out."

They exchange numbers, and once the bus finally does show up, they sit together and chat the whole way home.

"See?" Raven says, when she finally makes it to trivia. "Fuck the MBTA."

"I dunno," Clarke says. "I can think of some other things I'd rather fuck."

*

She doesn't get to talk to Bellamy in the next couple of days. She's running late or he's running late and they can't get close on the bus, and she stays late on Thursday night for an event.

On Friday morning, he comes in and finds her.

"I'd like to do a book club, maybe?" He's got his shirt still buttoned all the way up and he's wearing a tie. It's a good look. She suspects all his looks are good. "Or a couple I guess, for different age groups?" He runs his hand through his hair, which looks like it might have been at some point kind of styled, but he seems to play with it as a nervous habit.

"I could definitely help you with that. If you get me a number of kids, I should be able to get copies of the books in advance with ILL, and you guys could meet here or over there. I'd have to double-check, but I could probably moderate or something too, if you want."

"Really? You don't mind?"

She has to smile. "I'm a children's librarian. If I didn't want to deal with kids, I would have gone into reference or something. Get me a timeline, any preferences you have on books, and what age groups you're working with, and I can come up with a plan."

"You know, I asked the last children's librarian about this and she said she was busy with her own programs and gave me a website I could look at."

"Well, good thing you've got a new children's librarian to work with, then."

He laughs. "Yeah, good thing."

*

On Tuesday, the morning bus is late. Bellamy shows up at Clarke's elbow when she's texting her boss.

"I hope you didn't have anything pressing this morning," he remarks.

She eyes him. "Do you just wait until the last possible second to put on your tie?"

"Pretty much. My boss says it's about making the best impression, but I think it's bullshit. It makes the kids think I'm trying to be a teacher, so it takes a lot longer for them to open up to me."

"So, you're one of those cool teachers. Not like regular teachers."

He rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder against hers. "I'm the coolest teacher. But, really, it's important that I'm _not_ a teacher. I used to go to that club when I was a kid, and I felt safe there because it wasn't school, and I didn't think all the adults were out to get me. I hate that my boss makes it harder for me to be that guy for these kids."

"Yeah, that's shitty," Clarke says, and he looks a little sheepish.

"Sorry, that's a lot of information from the bus guy, huh?"

"No, I meant that. It is shitty. I was just thinking it's cool, that you can work somewhere that meant so much to you." When he still looks dubious, she adds, "I was also thinking it's interesting that you thought teachers were out to get you, and your sister is going to Harvard. You know, from an academic perspective."

"My sister had me," he says, and it's not exactly an explanation, but it feels like it's almost enough. He had no one; his sister had him.

"So, how long before we catch a bus?"

He smiles at the obvious change of subject. "I say thirty minutes."

"Pessimist. Twenty."

"You're new in town, right?"

"That's what my roommate says when I talk about the bus too."

"Your spirit hasn't been crushed yet. It's cute." He must realize what he said, because his cheeks darken. "You'll learn."

It's only ten minutes before the 70A shows up, and Clarke grins. "Now who's learning?"

The bus is packed, and she and Bellamy end up standing, pressed close together, toward the back.

"Yeah," he says, smiling down at her. "You're an education."

*

They're not really friends, of course. They sit together on the bus, chat sometimes, but just as often they'll both be on their phones. Bellamy is always reading--historical stuff, fiction sometimes, but mostly non-fiction--or texting someone named Octavia, who she really hopes is his sister. She's pretty sure she is.

They see each other at the book club, which starts up at the start of the school year. He also changes his schedule when school starts, going to Tuesday to Saturday like her.

"We do more weekday stuff in the summer," he says, when she first sees him waiting for the 70 on a Saturday morning. "I always switch to Tuesday to Saturday once school's in session."

"Cool," she says, and tries very hard not to grin.

*

Raven talks her into playing hooky on a Friday because her date for the midnight premiere of some movie bails on her. Clarke has been employed for almost five months and hasn't used any sick days or time off yet, and she doesn't have anything special going on, so it feels like probably a responsible use of her time.

Bellamy texts at around ten: _sick?_

She does not grin and bury her face in her pillow. She really doesn't. _superhero-movie-related peer pressure_

_that was my second guess_

She's making lunch when he texts again. 

_so you don't need emergency soup_

Raven doesn't have class on Fridays, so she's in the kitchen when she gets the text, and notices her expression, because Raven is like a shark sensing blood when it comes to Clarke and feelings.

"Who's that?"

Her main reason for not having mentioned Bellamy sooner is that she doesn't really have a great explanation for him. "A guy I know."

"You know guys?"

"Many guys."

"Correction, you know guys I don't know? Who text you? Is he local? How do you know him?"

"We take the bus together."

"You're texting with a guy you met on the bus?"

"Good things do happen on the bus. He works at the Boys and Girls Club. I've been helping him out, running a couple book clubs and stuff."

Raven leans over her shoulder, checking the text. "Bellamy, huh? He's totally angling for a soup date."

"Are soup dates a thing now?" she asks, elbowing Raven away. "Also, shut up. He's cute."

"He's going to single-handedly make soup dates a thing. This is a man with a mission."

_I don't NEED emergency soup. but non-emergency soup sounds very appealing. know anywhere good?_

She's on the couch with her lunch, watching Raven speed-run Super Mario World for her legions of Twitch followers (Raven's life is seriously weird) when he responds: _if it's not an emergency, you should come to this thing instead_

"Oh, wait, hold on," Raven says, interrupting her own rambling about some AI development that Clarke had been zoning out. "My roommate is texting with _a boy_." She pauses. "My roommate is bi, so anyone she texts with is actually fair game for mocking. It is awesome. What does the boy say?"

"The boy says I should do a thing," says Clarke, texting: _that is not enough information_

"Is he the thing?"

"I'll keep you posted."

_my sister's artist boyfriend has a show. you like art, right? also there's free booze and I'm going to be bored as shit_

"Sister's boyfriend's art show," she tells Raven.

"Okay, viewers at home, that is not a good first date. But she met him on a bus, so neither of them are making good choices."

"What is it with you and buses? There's nothing wrong with the bus." She pauses. "But inviting someone to your sister's boyfriend's art show really is kind of weird. It's probably not a date."

"Uh huh. Don't be Clarke either. It's a date. And you're going, right?"

_sounds terrible. when & where?_

"Obviously," she tells Raven. "He's a _hot_ bus guy." 

*

Bellamy proposes meeting in Harvard Square at six-thirty so they can grab dinner; Clarke's a little surprised he didn't just have her meet him at the bus stop, but she understands when she sees him. His hair is a little damp, and he's changed out of his work clothes. Clarke likes him in button-downs, but she has to admit, there's a lot to be said for the tight black t-shirt and old jeans he's rocking now. Plus the smile he gives her when he spots her. There's a lot to be said for that too.

"Thanks for coming with me," he says. "I really did not want to go to this alone."

Clarke smiles a little, but it's weak. Not a date. "What were you gonna do if I really was sick?"

"Oh, that would have been fine. _Sorry, O, can't make it. My friend is deathly sick, I have to care for her_."

"So you're okay with exaggerating, but not lying?"

"You seem like the type who doesn't take a sick day unless you've coughed up a lung, at a minimum."

"You're right," she admits. "But not for the reason you think."

"Why do I think that?"

"Because I'm the type. But it's because of my mom. She's a doctor. You'd think that would mean she had some perspective, but she's like human Web MD. I got a cough, she was sure it was the black lung and I had to stay home. I started sneaking out to go to school when I was like twelve."

"Wow," he says, laughing too. "You're right. That's not what I was expecting. Rebel Clarke, going to school even though her mom wants her to take a sick day."

"I'm full of surprises." 

He holds the door to Grendel's open for her when they arrive, which--date? She hasn't been here before, but it's nice, kind of small and weird, but she's always liked small, weird restaurants.

"O said they were already here," Bellamy says, from behind her. He's warm at her back, and she thinks _not a date_ again. But he adds, "She said she had to meet you and she thought the show would be too busy."

"She had to meet me?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

He rubs the back of his neck. "I don't make a lot of friends."

"But there are so many people on the bus!"

"Shut up," he says, without heat. He looks around, spots a gorgeous brunette and waves to her, puts his hand on the small of Clarke's back to guide her to the table.

"Wow, she's cute, Bell," says the brunette, presumably O, short for Octavia. Clarke is great at this. She should be a detective.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he grumbles, good-natured. "Where's Lincoln?"

"Stressing out somewhere. He's running late, but he'll be here in a few." She turns her beam on Clarke, which is a little overwhelming. They must have the hottest parents in the world. "Hi, I'm Octavia."

"Clarke. Nice to meet you."

"You too. Bell said you're a hot librarian?"

"I said librarian," he says. "Don't make me regret this, Octavia."

"The hot was implied. And you totally knew what you were getting into. I even said _you're bringing a girl?_ and you said _shut up, Octavia_." She turns her attention back to Clarke. "He's really bad at girls."

It's impossible not to smile. "I'm getting that impression, yeah."

She finds out that Octavia is a senior at Harvard, studying religion and anthropology, that she has a black belt, and that Bellamy was her legal guardian from age nineteen to twenty-four.

"Really?" she asks, peering at him, and he shrugs. There's a slight flush on his cheeks, though.

"Someone had to do it," he says. "Do you understand what casual conversation is, O? It doesn't usually involve _this is how old I was when my mom died_."

"I was sixteen when my dad died," Clarke offers, and both of them turn to her in surprise. She takes a drink of her beer and waggles her eyebrows at Bellamy, a challenge. It just makes him laugh, which is kind of better, anyway.

"Okay, fine," he says, shaking his head, still smiling. "Dead parent stories. Great. I'm getting another drink."

Octavia's boyfriend shows up half an hour and apologizes profusely, and they talk about his show and his life, while Bellamy occasionally interjects with pointed comments about his age, until he realizes every time he does, Octavia retaliates by telling Clarke something embarrassing from his childhood. 

Clarke texts Raven on their way out, _my date/not date meter is totally broken at this point. we had dinner with his sister and she told me he was bad at girls_

_just put your tongue in his ear_

Clarke bites her lip to keep from laughing. Someone might want to know why. _that's your solution to everything_

_because it always works_

Bellamy falls into step with her, a little behind Lincoln and his sister. "He's really nervous," he tells her, low and amused. "They're going to start running in a minute."

"It's his first show," says Clarke, smiling too. "Be nice."

"Oh, I like Lincoln." It's easy the way he says it, casual. He grins when he sees her face. "I give him shit. O and I, we always--" He flushes and looks away. "We always give each other's, uh, people shit. It doesn't mean anything."

"Are you saying I'm your people?" she asks, caught between amusement and offense. He might just be _awful_ at this. 

"My person, yeah," he says, still not looking at her. "And they're running, Jesus Christ." He finally offers her a boyish smile. "Sorry, I know this is kind of a mess."

"It's okay," she says, surprised she means it. He's--endearing. Very endearing. She takes his arm and speeds up. "Come on, we don't want to get left behind."

*

At the gallery, Octavia finds her while Bellamy is arguing with someone named Indra about _Princess Mononoke_.

"He missed some key developmental stages," says Octavia.

"Sorry?"

"Bell. You know how most people learn how to have adult relationships at some point? He never really did. He just learned how to not die taking care of a teenager."

Clarke feels herself blush. "Oh. I guess that would happen."

"That's why I brought it up," Octavia continues. "I didn't just want to have an awkward conversation about dead parents. He's just sort of--he still thinks if he tells girls he likes them, he's being too obvious." She grins. "I know he's an idiot, but you can probably train him. If you want to."

Clarke glances back over at him; he's talking with his hands, making some very important point. 

She _does_ like him. 

"Good to know. Thanks."

*

They leave before the show is over, since they both have work in the morning, and Bellamy insists on walking her home. 

"Have you ever been to Central Square at night?" he asks, gruff. "Octavia can't walk three feet without a drunk guy hitting on her."

"I just wear my headphones."

"That's worse! Then you can't hear anyone coming."

"I don't turn on the music," she says, amused. "It just gives me an excuse to ignore them."

"I'm still walking you home."

"Very romantic."

He turns bright red, and it does kind of remind her of being a kid. He likes her, and he's afraid of what will happen if she notices. At least he's not shoving her into a sandbox or something.

"I had fun, though," she offers. "I like your sister."

"She liked you too. I know it can be hard to tell." He gives her a smile. "Thanks again for coming. I really wasn't looking forward to this."

"Yeah, of course. You should ask me to do stuff more often."

"I should, huh?"

"Definitely," she says, and leans up to press her mouth against his cheek, chaste. Middle-school style. "See you tomorrow, Bellamy."

*

Even Clarke, who continues to defend the bus mostly out of a stubborn refusal to admit Raven might have been right about it's general suckiness, cannot come up with anything good to say about the Saturday bus, except that Bellamy is on it. It's infrequent and unpredictable, the first of which makes sense--most people don't work, so there is no rush hour--and the second of which is baffling, because there is no traffic. But the bus has arcane skills; it can suck at supernatural levels.

Bellamy doesn't show up until about a minute before the bus the morning after their middle-school date, which is really risky on Saturday. The bus is both infrequent and unpredictable, and she worries he's going to miss it. But he runs up, finally, only half in his shirt, hair a mess, like he overslept. But she kind of suspects he was just freaking out, judging from his expression when he sees her.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he says.

"I thought you might be sick. I was thinking about where I'd get emergency soup."

He laughs at that, relaxes. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you," he says, but he doesn't sound offended.

"Your sister said you missed some developmental stages."

"God, why did I think it was a good idea to introduce you guys?"

"I was kind of wondering, yeah."

The bus rolls up, on time for once, and Clarke follows him on and sits down in the seat next to his. 

"If you said no, I was just going to tell myself you didn't like art," he admits. "To preserve my dignity."

She laughs and slides her hand in his. "Hey, Bellamy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go on a date with me tonight?"

He laughs, relieved, and ducks his head down to kiss her. "I would love to."

*

The next Saturday, they get distracted at his apartment and both nearly miss the bus. But it's totally worth it.

*

In January, Clarke admits it.

"I hate the bus. I am going to freeze to death."

Bellamy laughs and wraps her up in his arms, propping his chin on her shoulder. "Aren't you from DC? Don't you guys have winter?"

"I had a car. And we didn't have this much winter."

"It goes until at least March," Bellamy informs her, still amused. He is an asshole. "I like snow, and by the end I'm still ready to murder someone."

"You're always pretty ready to murder someone."

"True." He takes his hat off and puts it on her head. "It would help if you learned to dress yourself."

"Thanks for your support, babe."

"Any time." He glances at his phone. "The bus just disappeared off NextBus."

"Disappeared?"

"Completely."

"So, we're going to freeze to death out here?" she asks, leaning back against him, resigned.

"Or I could unlock my office, we have sex, warm up, catch the next one."

She twists back to look at him. "You know it's going to come while we're having sex, right?"

"Yeah. But we'll be having sex."

"Point."

She gets home two hours late, and Raven smirks. "I told you, fuck the bus."

"As always," she says, smirking right back, "I have way better things to fuck than the bus."

**Author's Note:**

> Bellamy POV [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4039033/chapters/10431696)!


End file.
